


Release

by silverr



Category: Saint Seiya
Genre: Aphrodisiacs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-01-07
Updated: 2005-01-07
Packaged: 2017-10-13 10:12:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/136112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silverr/pseuds/silverr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Description: Shunrei feeds Shiryu some special mushrooms—but does she get the results she hoped for? Takes place before Shiryu fights Algol.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Release

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: St. Seiya is copyright Kurumada Masami and Toei. No infringement or disrespect of the intellectual property rights held by the owners of existing copyrights in Saint Seiya or its derivative works is intended by this non-profit, noncommercial amateur fan fiction.
> 
> Note: Shiryu is nominally 15 at the beginning of the original series, and Mu 20.

.

.

— 1 —

"Do you want more, Shiryu?" Shunrei held out the bowl of stir-fried mushrooms.

With a sigh and a small smile, Shiryu took the bowl. "Thank you, Shunrei." He ladled a second small helping over his rice. "Would either of you like any?" he asked the other two at the table.

Shunrei said, "No!" at the same time that Mu said, "I'll try some." Roshi looked at the suddenly blushing Shunrei, and Shiryu gently chided, "Certainly there's more than enough to share with our guest?"

"But," she whispered, inexplicably near tears, "I made them just for _you_ , Shiryu."

"And I appreciate it," Shiryu said, handing the bowl to Mu.

For their own—and very different—reasons, at least three of the people at the table noticed that Mu's hand brushed Shiryu's as the bowl was passed.

.

— 2 —

A little while later Roshi laid down his spoon with a flourish. "As always, a wonderful meal, Shunrei. Thank you."

"Yes, thank you," Mu echoed. The meal _had_ been delicious—with the exception of the mushrooms, which had a bitter aftertaste that still burned in the back of his throat. He didn't see how Shiryu had managed to eat three helpings: either he had no taste buds, or he was motivated by love.

As Shunrei cleared the table the three Saints discussed matters of Sanctuary. Their conversation was interrupted by ever more frequent flashes of lightning and the grumble of distant thunder.

"It seems the weather is turning after all," Roshi said, then added with a wink, "You'll get soaked traveling in such a storm, Mu."

Mu smiled. Teleportation took only seconds of course, and he'd not be exposed to the rain for any of it—but Roshi did love having a fourth for bridge. "I defer to your wisdom, Master Roshi. Perhaps we could play cards to pass the time?" he said as Shunrei came back in with the tea tray.

The cups rattled. "Mu is staying?" Her voice was tremulous.

"Yes," Roshi said slowly as he rose from his chair and went to a tall enameled cabinet. "Surely you don't mind, Shunrei?"

She bobbed her head. "No, of course not."

Shiryu passed a hand over his forehead.

Mu asked, "Are you all right?"

Shiryu shook his head as if there were water in his ears. "Yes," he said, but sounded doubtful.

"Perhaps you're beginning to run a fever?"

"I'm sure it's nothing," Shiryu said, "just a little too much spicy food." 

A silent Shunrei poured tea.

Roshi returned to the table, a well-worn deck of cards and a box of _mah-jongg_ tiles in his hands. "Bridge first, then?" he asked, setting the box aside. "Shunrei, you will be my partner."

"Oh, but—" She glanced at Mu, who was in the chair opposite Shiryu.

Roshi said patiently, "Well, you know you can't sit next to Shiryu and also be his partner."

"Yes, sir," she said meekly. "I had forgotten."

"I will change places with you, if you like," Mu offered.

Shunrei shook her head, then took the tea tray back to the kitchen.

An awkward silence followed. Roshi noisily shuffled and then dealt the cards.

They began to play, but from the start Shiryu's attention clearly wasn't on the game. "I'm sorry," he said finally, his voice shaky, "I cannot continue."

"Oh, why?" Shunrei asked with a little cry.

"I'm not feeling well," he said as he stood. He certainly looked ill—his flushed skin glittered with sweat. "Please accept my apology, Roshi," he said with a small bow. "I know how much you were looking forward to the game."

"No need to apologize, Shiryu," Roshi said expansively. "It can wait for another time. Go get some rest."

"I'll assist you," Mu said, laying down his cards.

"Please don't trouble yourself," Shiryu said, shivering slightly. "Walking in the cool night will clear my head." As he opened the door the wind outside swirled through the room and skittered the cards across the table.

.

— 3 —

"He really can be quite stubborn," Roshi said as he sorted the _mah-jongg_ tiles.

Mu nodded. "It is both his strength and his weakness."

"How can you tell what his strengths are? You haven't known him that long," Shunrei said.

"True, but from the instant I met him he made an extraordinary impression," Mu replied.

"Yes, Shiryu's very special." Shunrei's eyes were fixed on the tiles.

Mu, puzzled by an unusual undercurrent in her voice, asked delicately, "Shunrei, have I done something to offend you?"

Roshi watched them.

Shunrei started to shake her head, but then burst out, "I'm sorry, but ever since he met you, he—he—!" Tears made her next sentences unintelligible, but her last words were clear. 'I couldn't think of what else to do!" She put her hands over her face and said with a wail, "Now I'm afraid it's what made him sick."

Mu turned to Roshi, at a loss.

Roshi raised an eyebrow. "Shunrei? What do you mean?"

She swallowed back her sobs and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. After a moment she said, "The mushrooms."

"The mushrooms?" Mu repeated, not understanding. "Why would mushrooms make him sick?"

Roshi went to the sideboard, picked up the bowl with the remaining uneaten mushrooms, peered at them, then sniffed them. His eyes widened. "Shunrei!" His tone was stinging. "You! Of all people to do such a thing!" He turned to Mu. "Go. Find Shiryu."

Mu's eyes flashed angrily as he stood. "The mushrooms were poisonous?" 

"Of course not!" Shunrei said. "I would _never_ hurt Shiryu! I love him!"

"Then what?" Mu's cosmo began to flare, surrounding him with a golden aura.

"Calm yourself, Mu!" Roshi commanded. "Go to Shiryu. Do what you can to help him until I can find an antidote."

As Mu hurried out into the night Shunrei whispered, "They weren't supposed to make him sick."

.

— 4 —

The Dragon Saint's cosmo couldn't be sensed, but fortunately the storm was making its way so slowly to the Five Peaks that faint, unusual sounds between thunderings led Mu to a bamboo grove where Shiryu was crouched.

"Shiryu?" Mu knelt and touched the younger Saint's shoulder in concern.

"Mu!" Shiryu rasped out. "Stay away!" He fell onto his hands and knees, gagging, then retched violently, again and again.

"I'm going to help you," Mu said firmly, holding Shiryu's long black hair out of the way, then pulling him away from the mess in the grass. "You need water and a place to lie down."

"No," Shiryu pleaded weakly, but then he sagged, the muscles in his arms and legs cramping forcefully. Mu caught him, then carried him down the path to the guest house where in summer guests slept on the wide roofed porch. Without much thought for decorum or modesty he set Shiryu on a mattress, then stripped off the younger Saint's vomit-spattered pants and shirt. He shed his own fouled tunic as he went to the well at the far end of the porch to pull up a bucket of water. He hurried back to Shiryu with a dipperful.

The teen was curled on his side, shaking as he tried to bear the newest wave without crying out. Mu waited patiently until the spasms passed then helped him to sit. "Drink this," he said, "Are you cold?"

"No," Shiryu gasped. "No blanket!" He gulped the water, then lay back with a soft groan, his fists clenched over his stomach.

Mu frowned. It had to be something more than mushrooms, to make Shiryu so ill. "Let me help ease your pain."

Shiryu said nothing, so Mu put the dipper aside and began to massage the younger Saint's leg muscles.

**.**

The night was half gone and the moon was moving from the zenith before the spasms began to ease off. Shiryu had at last relaxed enough to stretch out, and Mu now knelt astride him, kneading his shoulders and back.

Mu's sense of accomplishment at having helped Shiryu though the ordeal was tainted with guilt. Although his initial motivation had been completely altruistic—helping a fellow Saint—as the time had passed he had become aware that was enjoying taking care of Shiryu more than he should. The first time he had been his caretaker Shiryu had been cold, motionless, near death; now, however, electricity seemed to flow into the palms of Mu's hands from the Bronze Saint's hot, sweaty skin, and the small sounds he made were ...

… _like the gasps of a lover._

Mu sat back, appalled. These were not appropriate thoughts.

 _I wonder if Shunrei ever heard these sounds?_ And before he could shut it out, an image of a naked Shiryu, thrusting, groaning, bloomed in his mind's eye.

Mu was horrified. Shunrei deserved respect! How difficult it must be for her, to love a Saint, knowing that another woman—a goddess—could command her lover at any moment, could lead him into death.

_They're not lovers. More like brother and sister. And would she be so jealous of my friendship with Shiryu if she was confident that she had both Shiryu's heart and body?_

Mu forced his concentration back to his patient.

_Body._

Shiryu had a clean and musky smell.

_I wonder what he tastes like?_

No! He couldn't let his thoughts go in such a direction!

Shiryu shifted restlessly underneath him, then rolled over onto his back.

“Are you feeling better?'

“Yes Mu, thank you.” Shiryu's voice was raspy. He put his hand on Mu's knee.

Had anyone else taken such a familiarity, Mu would have assumed they were initiating sexual contact—but this was Shiryu, who Mu knew was a reserved, respectful, circumspect young man, much less driven by hormones than his friends. So it was nothing. Just a simple gesture.

_It feels so good to be touched._

Understandable that he would have such thoughts, of course – it had been years since he had experienced any intimate contact, and the feel of another person's skin under his hands, the warmth, the electric surge of touch, powerful even disconnected from lovemaking had brought back memories of his first (and only) lover, who had never gone beyond kisses and caresses, leaving Mu frustrated and ultimately unsatisfied.

_Exactly as I feel now._

He knew it was dangerous, to have such thoughts around Shiryu, who he had always found to be so admirable …

_... and worthy of desire._

As Mu struggled with these thoughts the hand on his knee began to move, rubbing his thigh, sliding higher and higher each time, with each slide pressing a little harder, with each slide gradually moving to his inner thigh, fingertips getting closer and closer to where Mu guiltily wanted them to go.

_He must want it too._

No, this couldn't be—what it seemed to be. It must be the illness! He backed up, and in the instant he realized that Shiryu was aroused the Bronze Saint was twisting against him.

Mu scrambled off the bed, his heart pounding. "Stay there," he said, "I'll bring you more water." His fingers hurriedly searched the dark for the dipper, then he went to the water bucket by the well.

.

— 5 —

Mu's thoughts were racing. _"They weren't supposed to make him sick."_ The mushrooms. Shunrei hadn't wanted anyone but Shiryu to eat them.

_Heart and body._

With a flash he understood. The mushrooms contained an aphrodisiac. For a moment Mu's anger at Shunrei briefly surpassed everything else. Foolish girl! What had she been thinking? Her actions had caused such pain! And then came a different emotion as he finally became fully aware of the energy gathering in the dark, fierce and thunderous and dangerous. If he was feeling this way, having these thoughts, so close to losing control after eating only a small portion of the mushrooms, Shiryu ...

_Shiryu had eaten much, much more._

Mu hadn't registered the rustle from the bed: and now Shiryu was standing behind him at the well, leaving him no room to turn around. Mu held up the bucket. "I have the water here."

Shiryu reached over his shoulder to take the dipper. Cold drops fell onto Mu's chest. He could hear Shiryu swallow: that led to

… _Shiryu's lips parting to kiss, and lick…_

"Thank you, Mu," Shiryu said quietly, reaching over him again to set the dipper back into the bucket. When that was done he didn't move away.

Mu felt what he knew to be panic. "Shiryu," he said. "I must—"

His words were frozen as Shiryu – solemn, reserved Shiryu – put an arm around his waist. A jolt half fear, half excitement lanced though him and he gasped out, "Stop, Shiryu! The mushrooms – you don't understand! There's something in them that's making us act this way."

Shiryu whispered hoarsely, "Us? So you feel it too?"

Mu knew he could – should – _must –_ stop what was happening. Shiryu's initial violent reaction to the mushrooms was past. He could leave him now. Go back to report to Roshi – or just teleport back to his dark, cold Temple. "Shiryu ..." He must say it. He didn't want to, but for all their sakes he had to. "Shiryu, this is a mistake. Shunrei fed you those mushrooms so that you would be – this way – with _her_."

"No," Shiryu said with a groan, "I can't. Please, Mu," and pressed against him. Tentatively at first, but with increasing purposefulness he caressed Mu's belly, then brushed his hand down to grasp him through the thin fabric. "Let me help ease your pain," he said, echoing Mu's earlier words.

And at that Mu surrendered to the longing, the ache, the overwhelming imperative for release. No matter that the conditions were strange. No matter that this was certainly not what Roshi had meant when he sent Mu after Shiryu with the order to do what he could to help.

— 6 —

It's often said that still waters run deep, that those who are reticent on the surface have powerful passions just waiting to be released. When two such currents join, is it any wonder than a flood results?

The bold touch began it, but it was not enough. Mu pushed down and then stepped out of his pants, aware that Shiryu was also shedding the last of his clothing. They resumed their positions: as they did so Shiryu lifted the mass of Mu's hair up and over his shoulder so that they could be skin to skin. Mu breath hitched as Shiryu's arousal pressed insistently between his buttocks, and Shiryu's calloused hands curled around and stroked him.

 _This is what he does to himself,_ he thought, and the image this made in his mind filled him with such intense fire that he involuntarily thrust into Shiryu's hand. At this Shiryu demanded hoarsely, "I want – "

Mu turned, eager to give pleasure, but Shiryu stepped back. "The bed." They stumbled to the mattress and fell together, limbs tangling, straining against each other, almost exploding into shards from the sheer pressure of the other's presence. Shiryu pressed himself against and between Mu's thighs. "Mu— " His voice, muffled against Mu's neck, was ragged with need.

For an instant Mu had a last wisp of reservation, that the friendship he had established with Shiryu could be destroyed if they allowed this to happen, but it was too late for reason.

He groped in the dark for the oil lamp, found it, dipped his fingers in to coat them. Shiryu groaned as Mu stroked him, and gasped, "Don't stop." Mu then rolled onto his knees, took more oil, reached down to try to prepare himself. Shiryu's hands and mouth telegraphed his desire and Mu, impatient as well, braced himself. "Now, Shiryu," he said, and immediately hard, hot flesh pressed against him, blindly searching for entrance. Mu started to reach around to guide him, but the next instant Shiryu was inside him. It was like a sword, pain and surprise and invasion, and Mu cried out because despite himself, even though it was what he intended, what he wanted and needed, it was also a shock – and not just the sensations, but also the idea, the reality of what they were doing. Shiryu pulled back, then thrust in forcefully again, with a raw sound that was almost a sob, and now it was not like a sword, but a revelation, like cresting a hill to discover a new country.  They quickly found a rhythm so intense an observer might have said it looked as much as if they were punishing themselves as if they were taking pleasure. Shiryu's hands alternated between gripping Mu's hips and stroking his back in what seemed to be mute apology. Mu moaned, amazed at how much pleasure could come from such an alien pain. Every time he felt near climax it turned out to be a mirage: the mushrooms took him higher and hotter but would not let him go, intensifying every sensation more and more until it seemed as though he would be destroyed before he found release. Finally, near dawn, long after he had become exhausted enough to stop feeling guilty about being with Shiryu, a white-hot flood took him by surprise, and he passed at last into the oblivion of sleep.

.

— 7 —

Roshi walked without a sound down the path towards the guest house at first light, but stopped when he saw Shunrei. She was sitting off the path, in a spot where she could observe the two Saints sleeping on the porch far below. Roshi's weathered face creased with sadness as he saw her.

He started walking again, noisily this time, and sat beside her.

"Do you have the antidote?" she asked softly.

"Of course not," he said kindly. He studied her pale, determined profile. "I had no idea you were such a talented actress."

She said nothing. Below them, Mu had slipped from the bed and was hurriedly dressing. Shiryu leapt up and took him by the shoulders, apparently pleading as Mu shook his head and tried to turn away.

"I don't know what you mean," she said tonelessly.

Below them Mu stood still, listening to Shiryu.

"There were other possible outcomes."

Mu finally nodded his head. He and Shiryu embraced, then walked out of sight.

Shunrei twisted a handkerchief in her hands. "He would rather die than do something he thinks would hurt me," she said hollowly.

The old man nodded. "It is a true manifestation of love, to put the beloved's happiness before one's own."

Shunrei looked at him gratefully, her eyes brimming with tears. "Was it wrong?"

"Perhaps," Roshi said gently, "Perhaps not." Then he walked with Shunrei back up toward the house.

.

.

**Author's Note:**

> Humble thanks for my ever-patient and insightful betas **Toffee** and **Musouka,** and to the inspiration gorgeous doujinshi covers such as this one:
> 
> [](http://imgur.com/q9K5i)  
> 
> 
>  
> 
> Hm ... oh yeah, I had a point. (Reluctantly closes image.) I can see UST for days, and maybe lime ... I think in general I'm more drawn to those, tend to be more pleased with the end product, and feel less self-conscious about having male writers read it.
> 
> first post 7 Jan 2005  
> (p) 24 March 2009


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